Love Inspired Suspense January 2014

by Shirlee McCoy

  Josh whistled low. “Think it’s Cameron’s?”

  Andrea held the flat metal at eye level and studied it in the light. “It’s not old. The ink’s not dirty like some of the metal around it. It’s actually written over some of the dust. Even if it’s not his, it’s recent. Why would any of your other guys be writing on the bottom of this particular locker? Or any locker, for that matter?”

  “Why do nineteen-year-olds do anything?” Josh slipped the piece from her hands. “Make any sense to you?”

  “None. How about you? Is it some kind of secret code they’re teaching in basic training now?”

  Josh nodded slowly and angled the metal from one side to the other as he studied it. “Yeah.” His voice deepened in concentration. “It’s in a course on how to hide a stolen drug stash from the dudes who want it back.”

  When Andrea chuckled, Josh dropped the metal onto his lap and sat back, bracing his hands on the floor behind him. “Question is, now that we have it, what do we do with it?” The sentence ended on the stretch of a yawn.

  Andrea followed suit. “Use it as a pillow?”

  He picked the locker bottom up from his lap and thunked it against the floor. “I’ve slept on worse. But get serious. You’re getting the oh-dark-thirty sleepless and loopy brain.”

  “Probably.” Andrea folded her knees to sit cross-legged facing him. “I’ve got enough on my plate trying to protect that file. You want to hold on to the hunk of metal?”

  “So they can ransack my house later? No.” He tilted his head to stare at the ceiling.

  Andrea studied his profile. It was no wonder he’d stepped into the role of leader so well in the army and had advanced as far as he had. He had that “look” about him, the kind that commanded authority. Kingdoms were built on jawlines like that, she was sure of it.

  Would she never learn? When he pulled his head to one side and then the other to stretch his neck, she dropped her gaze to her hands knit together in her lap. She’d done enough staring at him in high school. Considering his nonchalance over their earlier kiss, it sure wouldn’t do to get caught engaging in that particular pastime now.

  Josh rolled his shoulders and sat up, dusting off his hands. “I say we leave it where we found it.”

  Andrea arched an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

  “Think about it. It’s been safe here all along. The guys on twenty-four-hour duty will know if anybody comes in. Look how quick they came looking for us. And without the file to know there’s something interesting about this wall locker, it’s not an obvious guess. Cameron’s counseling history was scattered all over my kitchen before we figured it out. If you’re really worried about someone finding it in the file, a little Sharpie works wonders on things you want to hide.”

  “We can’t destroy evidence.”

  He twisted his lips together. “Yeah. Hadn’t thought of that. Maybe we’ll dump the file under here, too. You can’t find the hiding place if you hide the clue to the hiding place in the—” his eyebrows drew together “—hiding place.”

  “Now who’s got oh-dark-thirty brain?”

  He raised his hand like a schoolboy. For a second, Andrea caught sight of the young man she’d known so long ago. She turned her focus to the filthy floor under the locker and nodded. “I’ll second the motion. Leave the piece here. And when we figure out if it’s important, we’ll pass it along to the police. Right now, I’m afraid of what they’ll think of me if I show up with one more piece of hidden evidence.” She dug into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone.

  Catching her intention, Josh held the panel still while she snapped pictures and texted them to him, as well.

  Josh sat up and slipped the panel into the locker. With a sharp, metallic pop, the bottom snapped into place and Josh stood, wiping his hands on the legs of his shorts. When he seemed satisfied, he held a hand out to Andrea. “Well, m’lady, we should get you home before you turn into a pumpkin.”

  She grasped his hand and wished the feeling didn’t run straight to her heart.

  Too late. Cinderella broke her glass slipper hours ago.

  TEN

  Josh jammed the key into the ignition of his pickup and stared across the parking lot at the tiny church nestled at the edge of the trees. It was a few minutes after noon and heat waves already shimmered from the asphalt to mute the edges of the white clapboard building. He could be downtown at his church right now, where he blended into the megacrowd, but no, somehow in the faded light of dawn, when she’d asked him to come to her church with her, he’d said yes.

  Now he sat in the parking lot, waiting for Andrea to finish a “brief” meeting of the church’s education council, and wondered why he was here.

  A knot of parishioners drifted down the steep brick steps. The women shrugged out of sweaters as they hit the heavy July humidity. The church had AC and it had been cranking. The facilities, he thought, were certainly not as ancient as the structure.

  “Ancient.” The word ricocheted like a bullet through the truck as he spat it, shocked that it had been out loud. Their late-night scavenger hunt had occupied most of his energy, but the minute circumstances had slowed down enough to allow his thoughts to wander, frustration reared its head. After that kiss, he’d been seconds from telling Andrea what he’d really thought about her in high school, how that tongue-tied state still seemed to plague him when he was in her presence. Yeah, he’d been the one to back off, to realize nothing could happen with his secret between them. Then she’d written the whole thing off as ancient history. It had been the jolt he needed. It was their past, and it needed to stay there. He was a confirmed bachelor for a reason, and he sure didn’t deserve to love someone like Andrea, not with the responsibility for Brendan resting squarely on his shoulders.

  So why was he here? Because he was a sucker for a pretty face.

  Josh ran a hand across his chin and chuckled. That’s it. Next time he couldn’t sleep, he had to avoid any channel showing film noir classics. He couldn’t spend the rest of the day sounding like Humphrey Bogart. He’d already dumped off what was left of his common sense by coming here with her.

  And agreeing to lunch.

  He shook his head and exhaled loudly. How long could he lie to himself and say it was only because God wanted him to protect her, to make up for letting her brother die? He was still as selfish as he was all those years ago. Truth was, it was about him. All of it.

  The parking lot was nearly empty and Josh had switched on the air-conditioning when Andrea appeared at the door to the church. She caught his eye and waved him inside.

  Annoyed with himself for hanging around, Josh cut the ignition and slid out of the truck, pocketing the key ring as he strode across the nearly molten asphalt toward the church. He really should say something had come up and he couldn’t make lunch. But the closer he got to her, standing in the doorway in white capris and some sort of loose purple shirt, the less he wanted to walk the other way. It mattered less what she thought of him and more that he could spend time with her.

  *

  Andrea had stayed up half the night replaying that kiss and kicking herself for diving into it. And for asking him to take her to church today. Which was worse: his thinking she was desperate for his attention or his thinking she was terrified to go along with her normal routine? Either way, she wore humiliation like a veil, and she’d only magnified it last night by telling him her high school secrets, which he kicked to the side and ignored.

  Sitting in the pew beside him had been awkward, to say the least. She was already stiff from his linebacker tackle at the PX yesterday, and her muscles jolted each time his elbow brushed hers. The whole “couple in church” thing was too intimate and raised too many eyebrows around her tiny congregation. It seemed she’d never learn to think her impulses through.

  When the short “when should we meet to plan the fall Sunday School rally” discussion turned into a full-on planning session, Andrea had called Josh in to let him know it could be a whil
e. Far from leaving the way she’d expected him to, he’d settled in the pew beside her and sat listening as if he belonged there, although a storm brewed behind his eyes.

  She’d never hear the end of it from Berta Summers, the church matriarch who’d been trying to marry her off for her entire ten-year stint in this congregation. Andrea glanced around at the dozen people scattered about the room. Truth be told, she’d never hear the end of it from any of them.

  A sigh slipped out. Boy, would she hate to have to change churches now, but it might be the only way to avoid a game of twenty questions every time she stepped through the door or ran into one of them at the Winn-Dixie for the next month.

  Josh leaned closer, his shoulder brushing hers. Andrea thought she would leap out of her skin and grip the ceiling. “You okay?”

  The motion and the quiet words drew the attention of half of the Sunday School board.

  Yep. She’d never hear the end of it.

  Andrea nodded and waited for curious eyes to drift away. “Starving.” It wasn’t a lie. It just wasn’t the answer to the question he’d asked.

  Josh nodded and rubbed his hand across his stomach, pressing his shirt over abs too flat to be real.

  Andrea stifled a groan and turned her attention back to Giles Martin at the front of the church. She hadn’t needed to see that. Not now, when her imagination was doing a fine job of its own. Time had been way too good to Josh Walker. Better than it had been to her.

  Josh’s elbow found her ribs and begged for attention. As she whipped her head to glare at him, she heard her name in Berta’s high, warbling voice.

  “Andrea, was there anything else you wanted to add?” Berta’s look said she knew exactly what Andrea had been daydreaming about.

  Now would be a good time to find a nice, deep hole to hide in for the next few months. Instead, she managed to shake her head. “Nothing now.”

  Berta simply nodded in a way that said she was holding her tongue, then the meeting concluded and everyone gathered their things to leave.

  Andrea didn’t move, even as Josh stood. He looked down at her. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  He settled back into his seat and angled to look at her, resting one arm on the back of their pew and one on the back of the pew in front of him, nearly enclosing her in a circle of lean muscle. “Thought you were hungry.”

  “I am.” The group around them dispersed and chattered its way toward the door. “Just have a feeling I’ll be interrogated if I get too close.”

  Question marks dotted Josh’s face, then a knowing look slipped in and replaced whatever had him scowling in annoyance a few moments before. “Ah. You brought a boy to church. Inquiring minds want to know.”

  “Something like that. Past thirty and not married, you know. There’s got to be something wrong with poor Andrea. Sorry, Josh. You’re blood in the water and they’re the circling sharks.”

  “It can’t be that bad.” Josh flashed a grin and leaned closer. As his lips nearly brushed her ear, sparks zipped across her jawline and into her lips. “The longer we sit in here and let them filter out that door, the more they’re going to think something’s up.”

  With effort, Andrea leaned away and met Josh’s eyes. “And the more you whisper in my ear like that, the more they’re going to talk.”

  The dark look shadowed his face again, then he seemed to remember where he was and shook his head. “You’re right. Sorry.” He stood and looked down at her. “I’d offer you my hand but then your friend at the back would think I was proposing marriage.”

  Andrea glanced over her shoulder to find Berta openly staring, not even pretending to hide her interest in the proceedings in the third pew.

  Suddenly, Andrea didn’t care anymore. Let people talk. Let them get the wrong idea. Or, the way Josh was sending signals this afternoon, maybe it was the right idea. It didn’t matter. Like an irrational high schooler, more than anything in the world, she wanted her hand in his, by any means necessary. “Who cares?”

  Josh stared down at her for a long time, then slowly held his hand out, palm up.

  Andrea laced her fingers through his and let him pull her to her feet, then gripped tightly in case he had any ideas of letting go. So what if he was playacting? It felt so right. She’d deal with the jagged pieces of her broken heart later.

  *

  He shouldn’t have done that. Now that Josh had Andrea’s hand in his, he knew he’d taken a dive too far over the line to ever recover.

  At the moment, he couldn’t muster the will to care.

  She laughed as soon as the church door closed behind them, but she didn’t let go of his hand. “Thanks a lot. Now I’m going to be the center of attention at every meeting between now and the day Jesus steps foot back on this earth.”

  He squeezed her fingers and tried to ignore the way the slight breeze wisped the hair around her neck. “It’s good for you. Builds character.” Out of habit, he scanned the parking lot for anything out of place. It had become routine since they had started spending time together. He hadn’t forgotten the trouble that stalked her; it never left his mind. Even though she was safe for the moment, he couldn’t shake the feeling that if she got hurt on his watch, it would be his fault.

  Nothing seemed out of place as they walked across the parking lot. A warm breeze blew through the pine trees and whispered that all was well. They’d found an oasis in the most clichéd place in the world: a churchyard.

  Josh smiled at the sheer goofiness of the thought. It was true. The woman messed with his head. “So. Lunch? I’m starving.”

  He expected her to hesitate. To pull her hand from his, retract her earlier invitation and claim she had paperwork to do. Instead, she flashed a smile that went all the way into her eyes. “Want to see if that Mexican restaurant over by the college is packed? We’re way behind the rest of the church crowd now.”

  Josh glanced at his watch. “By the time we get over there, the church crowd will already be done eating.”

  Andrea started down the steps, tugging his hand. “Good. Let’s go. I’ll even let you drive.”

  She acted like this was a normal routine. His average Sunday included the occasional lunch out with his Sunday school class but, more often, it was bologna sandwiches and NASCAR races. This was infinitely better. He flashed a grin. “You seem less serious today.”

  “I can laugh or I can cry. And it’s better to be smiling, because I never know when my picture’s being taken.” A frown pulled at her lips and she slipped her hand from his, stuffing it into the pocket of her capris. “They keep telling me to stop what I’m doing, to stop counseling soldiers. Why would they care? Although after Wade’s relapse, maybe they’re right.”

  Josh wished there was a way to kick himself. He should have known the question would lead her down a dark path. He shoved his hands into his own pockets and leaned against the door of his truck, watching a blue Mustang ease out of a space in the smaller parking lot on the other side of the church. “You need to stop considering yourself a failure. More than one therapist out there has had a patient relapse. I’m sure even psychiatrists on TV have that problem.”

  Andrea stopped tracing a crack in the pavement with her toe. “Are you comparing me to a TV doctor?” The question dripped insult, but her eyes laughed.

  “That’s not a compliment?” He let himself sink into her gaze for a moment, but movement out of the corner of his eye jerked his attention from her.

  The blue sports car in the far parking lot eased to a stop, and the passenger window slipped down.

  Josh’s eyes scanned the churchyard. No one had come out the door behind them. His flight response kicked in as he straightened. His practiced eyes took in the situation even as Andrea turned to see what had absorbed him.

  “Josh? What’s going—”

  Without taking the time to think of what could happen if he were wrong, Josh hooked his arm around Andrea’s waist and yanked her to the ground behind the truck
as gunfire cracked an echo through the trees.

  *

  Andrea’s forearm crashed into the back bumper of Josh’s truck.

  Another hard thump, and Josh roared like a wounded animal. Her head thudded into Josh’s chest so hard that stars rushed through her vision. “Josh! What—” The words were cut off as he rolled over to cover her. Before any more thoughts could gel, she heard it. The silvery thwack of bullets tore the air and thudded into his truck.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, memories of dusty buildings and sniper fire overtaking her, knocking her into a hazy place where she couldn’t be sure what was real. Dear God…get me out of this. The squeal of rubber on pavement punctuated the air in a thin exclamation point, then there was nothing but silence.

  The first sound she registered was her pulse pounding in her ears, then she heard Josh breathing hard against her back. Gravel dug into her cheek, and her arm throbbed where it had slammed into the truck. She tried to breathe, but her brain seemed unable to process oxygen and take inventory of her body at the same time. Other than her cheek and her arm, she felt no pain.

  Air rushed into her lungs all at once as her body came back online, one function at a time. “Josh?”

  His weight shifted from her back as he rolled away.

  Andrea lifted her head as the shock wore off and her eyes focused. Josh lay on his back staring at the sky, eyes wide as he gripped his elbow and breathed as though he’d run full tilt up the side of Pine Mountain.

  She pushed herself up, leaning over Josh, vaguely aware of familiar voices and approaching feet. Fear retreated as concern for him mounted. “Josh, look at me.”

  He stayed on his back, his face white beneath a red stain at his hairline. His breath shook as he exhaled. “You okay? Did they hit you?” The words washed over her with a warmth she couldn’t interpret, not with her mind running from high to low speed like a poorly wound clock.

  Josh lay still, his knuckles white as he gripped his arm. Her hand drifted toward his forehead, hovering halfway. She wasn’t sure if she had the right to touch him or not. “You’re bleeding.”